By: Brian Zimmerman
Once the rain started to fall, it seemed like it would never stop. It began on our bus ride from Tiberias to Jerusalem, as water slashed against the windows of our bus and dark clouds hovered overhead. As we rode uphill toward Jerusalem, stopping briefly at a gas station for snacks and a camel ride, the clouds began to thin out, and before long we were hurdling into the holy city at full speed. Passing through one last tunnel, we waited in anticipation for Jerusalem to appear before us, and when it did, we could hardly contain our cheers. For many of us, it was the first time we had laid eyes on the place that our ancestors had called home, a city that had once been ripped from our grasp and nearly destroyed. As we gazed upon the city from a distance, there was a unanimous feeling that we were in for something truly special. Rain might have been streaming from the sky, but it was definitely the last thing on our minds. All any of us could think about was setting foot in Jerusalem.
Our first stop was at the Shuk market, a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and smells. Heading into the narrow, crowded street, our bodies became part of a human river, and we were pushed, sometimes against our will, past stalls filled with fruit, candy, and pastries. Our mission was to find a gift for one of our friends in the group, and after some quick shopping, we boarded the bus and headed back to the hotel. The sun was beginning to set, and it was time to prepare for Shabbat.
For many of us, Shabbat at the Kotel, was unlike any other Shabbat service we had ever experienced. Walking through the old city of Jerusalem, we were humbled by the fact that we were occupying the same steers our ancestors had walked thousands of years ago. It was a privilege that many of us did not take for granted, and even those amongst us who had never ushered in a Shabbat could tell they were taking part in one o the most meaningful traditions in Judaism. After lighting the candles and saying a prayer over the wine, we began our walk to the Western Wall.
As we stood in front of the Kotel, praying with our fellow Jews, the outside world seemed to disappear. Suddenly, it didn't matter that the rain would not relent and that we were soaked to our skin. The only thing that mattered was that we were experiencing a deep connection to the Jewish people and the history and culture that has sustained us for so many years. After all, the true beauty of the Western Wall is that while you're standing before it, no Jew is a stranger.
Back at the hotel, after a meaningful walk through the rainy streets of Jerusalem, we sat down for a traditional Shabbat dinner in the dining room. After eating, we regrouped in a circle and exchanged the gifts we bought at the Shuk. This gift exchange was a simple way to show how much we appreciate the people sitting next to us, and though the gifts were inexpensive, they carried a value that will only increase with time.
With a wake-up call set for noon, Saturday marked the first day of the trip on which we could actually sleep in. Rest, after all, is what Shabbat is all about, so many of us were more than happy to honor the sabbath by turning off our alarm clocks. After a relaxing lunch, we all participated in a Jewish identity activity that had us rank our Jewish priorities in order of importance. Though our answers might have been different, we could all agree that the activity had deepened our understanding of who we were as Jews.
Refueled by a quick snack, we reconvened for a presentation by an organization called Gift of Life, a group that helps young Jews like us register for the international none marrow registry. Registration only took up an hour of our time, but its effects could potentially change someone's life forever.
With the sun well below the horizon, Shabbat had finally come to a close, and it was time for us to experience Jerusalem's nightlife firsthand. After a havdallah service that had us singing together arm-in-arm, we boarded the bus and headed for Ben Yehuda street. Finally, the rain had stopped falling, and it was as if the city had been washed clean. We started the new week the best way we knew how: by spending time with each other and dancing well into the night. Our Shabbat experience, rain and all, had truly been a success. Because in the end, it had brought us all closer together.
Once the rain started to fall, it seemed like it would never stop. It began on our bus ride from Tiberias to Jerusalem, as water slashed against the windows of our bus and dark clouds hovered overhead. As we rode uphill toward Jerusalem, stopping briefly at a gas station for snacks and a camel ride, the clouds began to thin out, and before long we were hurdling into the holy city at full speed. Passing through one last tunnel, we waited in anticipation for Jerusalem to appear before us, and when it did, we could hardly contain our cheers. For many of us, it was the first time we had laid eyes on the place that our ancestors had called home, a city that had once been ripped from our grasp and nearly destroyed. As we gazed upon the city from a distance, there was a unanimous feeling that we were in for something truly special. Rain might have been streaming from the sky, but it was definitely the last thing on our minds. All any of us could think about was setting foot in Jerusalem.
Our first stop was at the Shuk market, a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and smells. Heading into the narrow, crowded street, our bodies became part of a human river, and we were pushed, sometimes against our will, past stalls filled with fruit, candy, and pastries. Our mission was to find a gift for one of our friends in the group, and after some quick shopping, we boarded the bus and headed back to the hotel. The sun was beginning to set, and it was time to prepare for Shabbat.
For many of us, Shabbat at the Kotel, was unlike any other Shabbat service we had ever experienced. Walking through the old city of Jerusalem, we were humbled by the fact that we were occupying the same steers our ancestors had walked thousands of years ago. It was a privilege that many of us did not take for granted, and even those amongst us who had never ushered in a Shabbat could tell they were taking part in one o the most meaningful traditions in Judaism. After lighting the candles and saying a prayer over the wine, we began our walk to the Western Wall.
As we stood in front of the Kotel, praying with our fellow Jews, the outside world seemed to disappear. Suddenly, it didn't matter that the rain would not relent and that we were soaked to our skin. The only thing that mattered was that we were experiencing a deep connection to the Jewish people and the history and culture that has sustained us for so many years. After all, the true beauty of the Western Wall is that while you're standing before it, no Jew is a stranger.
Back at the hotel, after a meaningful walk through the rainy streets of Jerusalem, we sat down for a traditional Shabbat dinner in the dining room. After eating, we regrouped in a circle and exchanged the gifts we bought at the Shuk. This gift exchange was a simple way to show how much we appreciate the people sitting next to us, and though the gifts were inexpensive, they carried a value that will only increase with time.
With a wake-up call set for noon, Saturday marked the first day of the trip on which we could actually sleep in. Rest, after all, is what Shabbat is all about, so many of us were more than happy to honor the sabbath by turning off our alarm clocks. After a relaxing lunch, we all participated in a Jewish identity activity that had us rank our Jewish priorities in order of importance. Though our answers might have been different, we could all agree that the activity had deepened our understanding of who we were as Jews.
Refueled by a quick snack, we reconvened for a presentation by an organization called Gift of Life, a group that helps young Jews like us register for the international none marrow registry. Registration only took up an hour of our time, but its effects could potentially change someone's life forever.
With the sun well below the horizon, Shabbat had finally come to a close, and it was time for us to experience Jerusalem's nightlife firsthand. After a havdallah service that had us singing together arm-in-arm, we boarded the bus and headed for Ben Yehuda street. Finally, the rain had stopped falling, and it was as if the city had been washed clean. We started the new week the best way we knew how: by spending time with each other and dancing well into the night. Our Shabbat experience, rain and all, had truly been a success. Because in the end, it had brought us all closer together.
The Machane Yehudah Shuk (Market)
Out on the Town on Ben Yehudah
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